30 August 2019


photobooth friday

things my cousin taught me:

how to put on make-up
(use various shades of powdery, shimmery eyeshadow to create the illusion of glamour and finish the look off with the blackest mascara you can find and you never, ever forget strawberry roller ball lip gloss)

how to dance at the teens-only nightclub with complete and total confidence
(bounce, you bounce a lot, and you look off into the distance)

how to make sure all the conditioner is out of your hair 
(rinse and rinse and rinse til strands of hair squeak between your fingers)

how to pack for camp
(you make several lists and then you talk about it on the phone for hours and buy all your travel-size toiletries like, seventeen months in advance)

how to pull off the most legendary of camp pranks
(you color in your cousin's nose with a black permanent marker while she is sleeping and then, incredibly, you fall asleep while doing it so that your cousin sleeps on the marker all night and wakes up to to find a kidney-sized black stain and thinks, for a second, she is actually bleeding black blood) 

how to apologize for the most legendary of camp pranks
(you stop laughing when your cousin is unable to wash the permanent black marker off her nose and you hug her and tell her you will replace the cute sheets she bought specifically for this week of camp and you tell her she can pull any prank she wants on you, any prank at all and you won't be mad and then you tell her, again, how much you love her and that her nose really does not look that bad and maybe there might still be a chance with some of the seventh grade boys and then you tell her that someday we will look back on this and laugh)

how to do all the thriller moves
(you watch the VHS tape of the video a hundred million times and you practice together until you are convinced you are better than the actual dancers in the video)

how to make family thanksgiving dinners fun
(you hide small pieces of turkey and globs of mashed potatoes in people's glasses of water and iced tea when they are not looking and then sit back and watch)

how to send the very best letters and packages
(you cut up your own paper confetti to pack into envelopes and write funny letters and individually wrap little presents and you just magically have the best timing) 

how to be generous and kind
(you lend your very best outfit to the girl at camp who has nothing, you tell her she can borrow any of your clothes any time and then, at the end of the week, you tell her to keep that special outfit, to take it home with her and you never mention it, you never say a word about it to anyone)

how to work the fleamarket like a pro
(you show up on early-early buyer day and make friends with all the best dealers and you are not too proud to dig through boxes of junk and see possibility in the strangest things and you wheel and deal and make sure to stop every once in a while to fuel up on corndogs and lemonade and mini cinnamon sugar donuts)

how to help throw the best kid birthday parties
(you show up with a suitcase full of pink and red things for the big pink and red birthday party and you help fill the pinata with goodies and wrangle five year-olds and man the cherry sno-cone station like a boss)

how to take care of someone you love when their mom dies
(you show up and just hug them and cry with them and help them do all the stuff, like figure out how to get all the flowers home from the funeral and organize all the food for the wake at the house and then help clean up everything afterwards and then you take all the kids to the mall and let them buy candy and stuff at claire's boutique)

(happy 50th birthday, cousin) (I love you and I really don't know what life would be like without you)